


Perfect Harmony

by BonkKnockers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, King's Row (Overwatch), Romance, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 15:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonkKnockers/pseuds/BonkKnockers
Summary: After a chance meeting in King's Row, Symmetra and Reaper share a drink and rekindle an old romance. Will they get to spend the night together, or, will their enemies ruin all the fun?





	Perfect Harmony

Symmetra felt his presence before she saw him, but she knew he was there, lurking deep in the shadows of this alleyway in King’s Row.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” she spoke into the damp night air.

“Did you see me? I must be losing my touch.”

A cloud of black smoke swirled around her and then quickly rematerialized into the man she’d once known. Gabriel Reyes.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” she asked.  
He only smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

If he was back in London that could mean only one thing. He was on a mission, but she wanted to hear it from his lips. Those full, soft, tantalizing lips. She caught herself staring at them and looked away.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

His eyes danced around them, glancing up at every ledge, peering into every dark corner. Was Widowmaker watching them? Or, was he so used to looking over his shoulder that he couldn’t stop and look only at her for just one moment. Ever the soldier, she thought.

“I’m working the graveyard shift,” he said as if she was supposed to know what that meant.

“You mean you’re here to kill someone?”  
He looked mildly taken aback. “I’m not a psychopath.”

Symmetra reached out and brushed her real hand against his arm.

“I never said you were,” she murmured.

But then he smiled and winked at her. “I’m a high functioning psychopath.”

She sighed and dropped her arm away. Of course, he couldn’t be serious for one bloody moment.

“C’mon,” he said, “isn’t there a pub just around the corner? Let’s get a drink.”

She wanted to. She really wanted too. But she had her orders too and they didn’t involve falling into old habits.

And then he muttered that one word he almost never said.

“Please.”  
And she was lost.

Like that first disorienting trip through a teleporter, her world was flipped around backward and she was suddenly pulled someplace she never expected to go. It was chaos, and she hated it.

“Fine,” she said, “but just one drink.”

They made their way down the street, he kept pace with her even though he could have easily breezed forward. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. He knew how she felt about social interactions. Polite chitchat wasn’t her forte.

When they reached the pub, he opened the door for her and gestured inside, but she paused for a moment, sending a turret up to rest just above the sign. An old habit. Extra warning in case an enemy snuck up on them.

A look of approval slipped across his face.

“It’s good to be prepared.”  
“Precisely,” she replied.

The beer on tap was cold, malty, and decidedly English. Personally, she preferred hard liquors, but this was quite refreshing given the circumstances. Tracer, or, Lena to her friends, would have enjoyed it.

“And what have you been up to Satya?” he asked casually. He was the only one that called her by her real name, just as she thought of him, not as Reaper, or Reyes, but Gabriel.

“The Vishkar Corporation has me very busy these days.”

“Forcing their interests down the throats of the less fortunate?” he asked.

“Helping people,” she insisted with a frown.

“Give me a break.”  
Gabriel had never agreed with what she did, but then, he had his own issues piled high. At one time she’d wanted to bring order to all that chaos in his life but quickly realized that was one battle that she’d never win. So she left… and he never followed. Until now.

He must have seen the question in her expression.

“I-I missed you.” Despite his strong, deep, rumbling voice, the world sounded forced and hesitant.

It took her a moment of consideration to reply, “and I you.”

His face was now disfigured, but she could still see the man he used to be. Without that horrid skull mask, he was still almost handsome. Warm, sun-touched skin, dark, almost black eyes. His facial hair was still trimmed into a clean, sharp goatee. But now those terrible scars marred the smooth lines of his face. Nevertheless, he sat before her unafraid, making no excuses, or attempts to hide. He allowed her to slowly take in his new face, no doubt assessing her as well.

They’d almost finished their drinks when an alarm on her prosthetic arm tripped. The turret outside had sensed someone.

“We should get going,” she murmured.

His mask was already pulled down over his face and his twin shotguns were clasped firmly in his hands.

He made for the front door, but she stopped him and nodded towards the back entrance.

Gabriel shook his head and resisted her pull. He wanted the fight, he needed it.

But she gave him that look, the look he’d probably been hoping for. The look a woman gave a man when she wanted his undivided attention. The look that she only seemed to be able to give to him.

He lowered his guns and allowed her to pull him through the exit.

They wove their way swiftly through the old cobblestone streets of King’s Row until they got to an entrance for the Underground. It was late and the platform was empty, but they kept their guards up regardless.

The room she’d rented for the night was in a lowkey hotel two stops away in a quiet part of the city, and despite her better judgment, Satya fully intended to take him there.

 

As Gabriel followed her out of the bar and down to the train platform he felt like a lost puppy. He would have happily followed her anywhere. It had been so long since he’d seen her sparkling green eyes and those legs that seemed to go on for days. Long strands of thick, black, glossy hair that he could vividly remember spread across a crisp, white pillow.

He almost felt as if he’d been in a trance since she’d crossed his path back in that alley. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Lacroix had said this was a simple operation. Get the intel and get out. Why would the Vishkar Corporation have sent their top agent here as well?

No doubt the sniper had been watching him as he’d made contact with Symmetra. Widowmaker was always watching. He’d get an earful from her in the morning when they met for the operation.

When they got to her stop she grabbed him by the belt and pulled him along with her. They walked by a few people on the streets, but none looked up at them as they passed. The lobby of the hotel was as deserted as the streets outside. A night manager sat at the desk with his head down, a pencil in his hand as he filled in a crossword puzzle in the paper.

They took the stairs two at a time and when they reached the third floor she shot three turrets up along the ceiling as they made their way to the end of the hall. They’d have a lot of warning if anyone else tried to sneak up on them, and whoever it was would get a nasty surprise.

As soon as the door clicked into place behind them she was in his arms. Her electric scent wafted up into his nose as he wrapped himself tightly around her in a desperate embrace.

“Kiss me, Gabriel,” she whispered under his chin.

He needed no urging from her. He brushed his mouth across her forehead and against the top of her head. He kissed her flushed cheeks and the tip of her long, stately nose. When his lips finally found hers they were soft and luscious, just as he remembered, with a light pink hue and a delicate little mole just above them on the left side.

“Did I mention I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth, and she chuckled.  
“I don’t think so.”  
“Well, I did,” he said again. “I never should have let you leave—”

The fingers of her robotic hand came to rest on his mouth.  
“Be quiet,” she commanded.

Instead of finishing the thought he reached down and wrapped his hands around her thighs, lifting her up until her legs encircled his waist. Turning around, he pressed her up against the door as their mouth met.

He tasted the hops from the beer on her lips and that only made him want more of her. They fed off each other, each wordlessly begging for more from the other. Her prosthetic arm wrapped tightly around his neck as she rained kisses down upon his mouth, while the other hand dug mercilessly into his hair. The tingling sensation of each strand being pulled tight sent shivers down his spine.

“I’ve thought of this day so many times,” he murmured. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do to you first.”

A light laugh escaped her. “Such a lack of imagination.”

He’d take that as a challenge.

Still wrapped around him like a vine clinging to a wall, he carried her over to the massive, ancient four-poster bed and threw her down upon it.

His long black coat was off in an instant and his ammo belt, breastplate, shirt, pants, shin guards, and boots quickly followed. He stood before her, hands on his hips, naked save for a pair of tight, black boxer-briefs. Muscular. Intimidating.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” she asked once again, but this time a warm, gently teasing smirk passed across her lips.

He’d been hoping she might be, but he still had a few tricks left.

Dissolving into a black cloud he swept over her and rematerialized on top of her.

His hands rested on either side of her head, pushing down deep into the plush mattress and his knees spread wide on either side of her hips as he straddled her.

“Exquisite,” she breathed. The look of wonderment on her face made his chest swell up with some kind of emotion he’d rather not dwell on.

“Now what should we do about this?” he asked, plucking speculatively at the collar of her bright blue tunic.

She reached up and pulled her visor from her head, tossing it down to the foot of the bed. With a hand from him, she then sat up so that she could pull the long garment up over her head.

“These are my favorite part of your uniform,” he said as he knelt down in front of her, staring eagerly at her tightly-fitting leggings, pulled up high on her thighs. The top edges were trimmed with gold to match her tunic. With reverent hands, he grasped the top edge of one and began to slowly roll it down her leg, inch-by-incredible inch, until the entire length of her rich, tawny skin was revealed.

Leaning forward he brushed his lips across her bare skin, burning a trail of hot kisses up her shin, over her knee, and onto the inside of her thigh.

Gabriel could hear her breath growing fast now as he repeated the slow torture on her other leg.

“Gabriel… please,” she pleaded in a breathless whisper.

“Please what?” he teased, as his hands and lips drew closer and closer to the apex of her legs.

With gentle fingers, he parted her soft, obsidian curls, pushing his tongue through to her slick, sweet folds, lapping her up like a man lost in the desert who’d finally found an oasis.

Her moans of pleasure ricocheted around the room until they found his ears and made his cock even harder than it already was. But then the inevitable happened. Another noise sounded, this one just outside the door. The high-pitched drone of a photon beam hitting its target as her turrets flared to life.

They’d been followed. Damn, just his luck.

He didn’t have to look up to know that her photon projector was already in her hand. His own shotguns were back in his, almost as if they were an extension of his body.

“Be careful,” he told her without thinking. Then winced at the way it sounded.

She didn’t need advisment from him.

With a flick of her hair over her shoulder, her reply was self-assured, almost haughty.

“Your opinion will be taken under advisement.”

Within seconds they both had their clothes back on.

Gabriel grinned at Satya one last time before pulling his mask down.

“Ready?” he asked.

She smiled back, turning on the visor over her eyes.

“Ready,” she replied.

Guns raised, he lifted his foot and kicked the door off its hinges. Behind him, Symmetra drew an energy barrier down the center of the hallway and chuckled.

“Welcome to my reality.”


End file.
